


Aureole

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [589]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:33:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret askedPrompt: Scott and female presenting nipples





	1. Chapter 1

“Excuse me?”

Scott’s smile goes brittle in a way that isn’t fully caught by the cameras tracking his every movement under the bright lights.  Out of frame, below the shot, Scott casually drapes a hand down onto the seat between him and the young pop starlet who was the other guest tonight.

In the green room, he realized he’d never heard of her or her music and had just felt  _old_.

Now he’s  _furious_. But the host is too busy checking his cue cards and his autocue and the look of his wig in the monitors to see Scott’s smile change, way her hand found his and squeezed tight.  “Well,” the host yammered on in a way that grated Scott’s nerves, obviously thrown by the way Scott’s cut in even though his time in the hot seat is over. “Young Molly here got her big break going topless in that video….”

“So you think you can just ask her to whip her clothes off now?” Scott finishes with the calmness of a shark in deep water.

“Well…”

Scott’s smile deepens, creasing around his eyes.  “Come along, Jimmy. It’s rude to put the lady on the spot.  Us first.”

“Huh?” And that’s panic, that only grows as Scott casually stands up, already undoing his tie.

“Strip, Jimmy,” Scott says, voice already modulating with a steely thread of command. Their host has gone pale, and Scott twirls his tie around his fingers.

Someone in the band starts picking out the notes to Big Spender, and Scott spares an approving nod towards where the musicians are tightly clustered.  “Thought, to be fair, Jimmy.  Men’s nipples aren’t all that.  Ladies,” he turns to the studio audience.  “What’s a man’s equivalent?”

“DAT ASS!” Someone hollers.

Scott winks and begins to undo his belt buckle.

“And our PG-13 rating says it’s time for a commercial break,” the host cuts in, almost physically leaping up to get between Scott and the camera.

Scott waits until the red ‘LIVE BROADCAST’ sign goes dark before dropping his smile.  His belt slithers out of the loop and snaps against his palm.  “Jimmy.  Try that shit on a woman on this couch, or anywhere else again, and I will personally lend them my lawyers.”

Jimmy swallows, a visible rise and fall of his throat, but Scott is done with him. “Molly, darling, shall we? I have dinner reservations, and I hate dining alone.”

“But the interview….”

“Is nothing without us,” he cut in smoothly, holding out his arm.

Molly’s trembling slightly, but the whoops and cheers of the studio audience carry them out past panicking producers to his waiting car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thebaconsandwichofregret asked  
> Prompt: Scott and the long suffering PR lady at TI who he totally has a crush on  
> alongside a second Prompt: anything Jeff please!

Jeff bit his fist to stop laughing right in Sabrina’s face.  That would be too cruel after the day she’s been having.

“And this!” Sabrina said, jabbing her pen towards the screen just as Scott’s belt slithered out to smack against his palm.  “You told me he’d behave, Jeff! You  _promised_.”

Jeff flicked off the monitor before it cut to the ad break; he’d lose control of his giggles if he had to watch that again.  “All I see, ‘Brina,” he soothed. “Is a gentleman coming to the aide of a damsel in distress.”

Her eyes narrowed behind her cats-eye glasses.  “Don’t try to spin a spin doctor, Jefferson.”

Jeff breathed out hard to regain his composure.  “I have twitter too, Sabrina.  And Gordon over breakfast read me every single relevant Instagram post.  He escorted her out of the studio in front of a hundred audience members, dined with her in front of a full restaurant of diners, and dropped her back at her hotel by ten.  How is that  _not_  behaving?”

“You forgot the stripping.”

“You didn’t even see his boxers.  Though he might blush if he knew you were going to watch in freeze frame.”

It works; her cheeks flush slightly.  “Your son grew out of his puppy crush on me a decade ago, Jeff.”

Sabrina’s always worn cats-eye glasses and neat twin-sets, but her hair has streaks of grey in it now, and she calls him Jeff now rather than “Mr Tracy sir” like she had on her first day with the company as employee number seventeen.

Seventeen had been Scott’s favourite number from that day on. He’d been twelve and Jeff remembers thinking Scott was showing impeccable taste even then.  “You never forget your first crush, ‘Brina,” he teases gently, and she swats his arm.

“Just tell your son to keep his pants on, please.”

“Pants in the English sense right?”

Sabrina pauses at the door, rolling her eyes. “I’ve adored that boy when he still had skinned knees and could be bribed with hard candy.  Please don’t make me have to freeze frame video of his dick for business purposes.”

Jeff doesn’t bite back his laugh this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Scott and the long suffering PR lady at TI who he totally has a crush on  
> alongside a second Prompt: anything Jeff please!

Jeff bit his fist to stop laughing right in Sabrina’s face.  That would be too cruel after the day she’s been having.

“And this!” Sabrina said, jabbing her pen towards the screen just as Scott’s belt slithered out to smack against his palm.  “You told me he’d behave, Jeff! You  _promised_.”

Jeff flicked off the monitor before it cut to the ad break; he’d lose control of his giggles if he had to watch that again.  “All I see, ‘Brina,” he soothed. “Is a gentleman coming to the aide of a damsel in distress.”

Her eyes narrowed behind her cats-eye glasses.  “Don’t try to spin a spin doctor, Jefferson.”

Jeff breathed out hard to regain his composure.  “I have twitter too, Sabrina.  And Gordon over breakfast read me every single relevant Instagram post.  He escorted her out of the studio in front of a hundred audience members, dined with her in front of a full restaurant of diners, and dropped her back at her hotel by ten.  How is that  _not_  behaving?”

“You forgot the stripping.”

“You didn’t even see his boxers.  Though he might blush if he knew you were going to watch in freeze frame.”

It works; her cheeks flush slightly.  “Your son grew out of his puppy crush on me a decade ago, Jeff.”

Sabrina’s always worn cats-eye glasses and neat twin-sets, but her hair has streaks of grey in it now, and she calls him Jeff now rather than “Mr Tracy sir” like she had on her first day with the company as employee number seventeen.

Seventeen had been Scott’s favourite number from that day on. He’d been twelve and Jeff remembers thinking Scott was showing impeccable taste even then.  “You never forget your first crush, ‘Brina,” he teases gently, and she swats his arm.

“Just tell your son to keep his pants on, please.”

“Pants in the English sense right?”

Sabrina pauses at the door, rolling her eyes. “I’ve adored that boy when he still had skinned knees and could be bribed with hard candy.  Please don’t make me have to freeze frame video of his dick for business purposes.”

Jeff doesn’t bite back his laugh this time.


End file.
